Midnight Sons Volume 2

by Debbie Macomber

  “Why are you so upset?”

  She flung the lettuce at him, but Matt ducked in the nick of time. Not that she really wanted to hit him. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do.

  “Karen?”

  She couldn’t bear it when he said her name like that. As if she was the most precious, the most beautiful woman on earth. As if he’d treasure her for all eternity.

  “I’m warning you—stay away from me.” She backed up, edging toward the door, hoping to make a clean escape. If she got past him, she’d run up the stairs and flee to the haven of her room. Then, and only then, would she try to analyze the reason for her tears. She felt a confusing mix of emotions—anger, guilt and a sudden, overpowering sadness that she could neither define nor explain.

  “Tell me what’s upsetting you,” he pleaded.

  “I can’t.” She shook her head helplessly; she didn’t understand it herself. She didn’t know why she felt so furious, or where to direct her anger.

  But everything was somehow linked to their dinner conversation. The two professors had taken the apparent chaos that had ruled her marriage and Matt’s life and seemed to find logic in it. Karen had been blinded by her complete lack of faith in her husband. She suspected that was a result of her unsettled childhood.

  “Why can’t you explain?” he coaxed.

  “Just leave me alone, Matt Caldwell,” she wailed.

  “No.” His stubbornness was showing. “You know I can’t stand to see you cry.”

  “Then I’ll stop.” She sniffled hard in an effort to stem the tears. Matt wasn’t the only one upset with her crying; it troubled her, too. Karen hated to cry. It made her nose red and runny, it made her eyes puffy and, worst of all, it made her weak. Vulnerable. Whenever she wept she wanted to be held. While they were married, it was Matt who held her. His comforting often led to lovemaking, which only complicated the issues between them.

  Matt stretched out his arms to her. “Honey, let’s talk about this.”

  She wavered, the lure of his embrace strong. It took every ounce of fortitude she had to shake her head. She was at the kitchen wall now, easing her way toward the door.

  “Karen, I love you so much.”

  She pressed her hands over her ears. “Don’t tell me that,” she sobbed.

  “Why not?” he demanded. “Don’t you know by now that I’d move heaven and earth to have you back? I want you and our baby here, with me. I want us married.”

  “You only want me because of the baby.”

  “That’s not true,” he argued vehemently. “Do you know any other man who would’ve agreed to live the way we do? Damn it, Karen, I’m going crazy. Do you think it’s been easy living with you day after day, loving you as much as I do and not touching you? We hardly even kiss.”

  “We can’t kiss,” she mumbled. Kissing was always the beginning for them; it rarely stopped there.

  “If you want to be angry with me, fine, but let me at least hold you.”

  That was generally how their fights went. She’d be unhappy over something that Matt found trivial and unimportant, and she’d explode. She’d throw things, and in an effort to calm her, Matt would offer her comfort. The comforting led to kissing and the kissing to much more. She didn’t want it to happen that way now.

  “No,” she said. “Not again. You seem to forget I’m not your wife anymore.”

  “The hell you aren’t,” Matt growled. “Sure, you’ve got some judge’s decree in your hot little hands, but that doesn’t change how I think of you—or how you think of me. You’re my wife as much tonight as you were the day we got married. I never understood this whole divorce business. You’re the one who wanted it, but are you happy?”

  She couldn’t answer. Besides, he already knew. She’d divorced him, moved to California—and had never been more miserable in her life.

  Removing herself from the temptation of being close to Matt simply hadn’t worked. Here she was, pregnant with his child, living with him. Difficult as this was to admit, she was happier than she’d been in two years. And it infuriated her.

  The tears came in earnest then.

  “Karen, for heaven’s sake…”

  She lacked the energy to run from him, and she slumped against the wall. In giant strides, Matt crossed the kitchen and gathered her in his arms. “Honey, listen, nothing can be that terrible.”

  “Yes, it can,” she sobbed, hiding her face in her hands.

  The warmth of his body seeped into her bones, chasing away the chill from her heart. Karen could feel his breath at her temple, gently mussing her hair.

  She didn’t know who reached out first; it didn’t matter. She was as hungry for him, as needy for her husband, as he was for her. His touch no longer merely comforted but excited. His lips were warm as they covered her mouth. Soon their need for each other was consuming them.

  “Matt, oh, Matt…” She breathed his name again and again as he buried his face in her neck. She slid her arms around him and pressed her body against his solid strength.

  “I’ve been crazy for you for weeks,” he muttered, whisking open the buttons of her blouse. “But I refuse to make love to you in the kitchen.”

  “Do you think this is a good idea?” she asked as Matt swung her into his arms. He opened the door with a push of his shoulder and carried her past the registration desk and toward his private quarters.

  “It’s a brilliant idea,” he said, walking past the dining room table.

  “Matt, the dishes,” she said, pointing.

  “Forget the dishes.”

  “You’re angry.” She was always the one who flew off the handle. Not Matt.

  “Not angry,” he corrected, “frustrated with this foolishness. I want my wife back.”

  She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. His eyes briefly met hers before his strides took them into his darkened bedroom. He placed her gently on the bed and knelt over her. “You asked for romance. I swear I’d do anything in the world to give it to you if only I could figure out what it is,” he said before he kissed her again.

  “You seem to be doing a pretty good job at the moment,” she whispered.

  “I am?” He sounded both pleased and surprised.

  “But I still think we should talk first.”

  “Not on your life,” he said, removing her shoes and carelessly tossing them aside. He kicked off his own. “Not when there’s a chance you might change your mind about us making love.”

  “I…I promised myself we wouldn’t.”

  “You can unpromise just as easily.”

  Karen held out her arms in open invitation. “I guess I’ll have to.”

  When Karen awoke it was still dark. The space beside her on the bed was empty. “Matt?” She sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. She saw his shadowy figure in the dim light and realized he was dressing.

  “Is it morning?” she asked, yawning luxuriously.

  “Unfortunately, yes.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve got to get the professors up and fed before Sawyer flies us out.”

  “You’re leaving?” She’d completely forgotten about the professors and that Matt would be taking them fishing. “But we need to talk,” she said urgently.

  “It’ll have to wait until later. I’m sorry, honey, but I don’t have any choice.”

  “How long do we have to wait?”

  “Three days,” he told her. “Besides, what’s there to talk about? Everything’s already settled, isn’t it? You’re moving into this bedroom with me and we’re getting married again as soon as I can arrange it.”

  “Aren’t you taking a lot for granted?” she asked, piqued that he’d assume everything was settled simply because they’d made love. She wanted to remarry him, too. But contrary to Matt’s assertion, there was still a great deal to discuss.

  “You love me. I love you. What else is there to say?”

  “Listen to me, Matthew, we have to clear the air. We need to—”

  “I
don’t have time, honey,” he said. “Hold that thought and I’ll be home in three days.”

  Discouraged, Karen fell back against the pillows.

  Nothing was settled, although thanks to what the two professors had pointed out, Karen had a far better understanding of Matt, of their history and his ambitions for the lodge…and of her own reactions the night before.

  The professors were right, but neither she nor Matt had seen the obvious. He’d found his calling, had unconsciously been working toward this for as long as she’d known him. The lodge wasn’t another phase; it was his life’s work. And it had taken two strangers to make both Matt and her aware of that.

  Now Karen understood the reason for her tears the night before—they’d been prompted by anger and sadness. And, she had to admit, guilt. She hadn’t trusted Matt to find his way, to find the work that suited him. She’d allowed her fears and insecurities to cloud her judgment.

  Not only had she brought grief into her own life, but into Matt’s, as well.

  Lanni stood at the kitchen sink and stared unseeingly at the world outside the window. Her thoughts were troubled as she reviewed her conversation with Karen the day before.

  Charles stepped up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. “You’re pensive this morning,” he said, kissing her neck. “What’s up?”

  “It’s Matt and Karen,” Lanni murmured. She set aside her cup and turned to wrap her arms around her husband, hugging him close. “Something’s happened between them.”

  “Good or bad?”

  “I don’t know,” Lanni confessed. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of Charles’s arms. When Matt and Karen had separated she’d been careful not to take sides. Karen was one of her best friends, but Matt was the brother she idolized.

  Following the divorce, she knew he was feeling lost and confused. In retrospect, Lanni wished she’d been more sympathetic. Karen’s leaving him had undermined the very foundation of his life.

  “I ran into Karen this morning, but where’s Matt?” Charles asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “He’s off doing his wilderness thing.” Lanni leaned her head back far enough to look into her husband’s eyes. “I couldn’t bear to lose you,” she said fervently, offering him a blurry smile.

  Charles stroked her hair. “What brought that on?” he asked.

  “I was just thinking about my brother and Karen. When Karen left him and filed for divorce, it was as if someone had pulled the rug out from under him. He was miserable.

  “Yet when I saw Karen soon after they’d separated, I realized she was just as heartbroken. I couldn’t take sides or interfere—at least I didn’t feel I could—and now I wonder if that was a mistake.”

  Charles kissed the top of her head. “What I hear you asking is whether you should involve yourself now.”

  “Yes. That is what I’m wondering. My brother’s a private person, and I doubt he’d appreciate my meddling in his affairs, but at the same time…” She hesitated.

  “What makes you think you should?”

  “I went over to see Karen yesterday,” Lanni said, then bit her lip. “I knew Matt was gone, and I thought I’d pop in and see how she was doing. At first everything was fine. We chatted and laughed the way we normally do, and then out of the blue Karen started to cry.”

  “About what?”

  “That’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question,” Lanni said. “When I asked her what was wrong, she shook her head, hugged me and told me I was the best friend she’d ever had.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What does ‘hmm’ mean?”

  “Nothing,” Charles answered. “Do you think this bout of melancholy is related to her pregnancy? I’ve heard that pregnant women sometimes get a little moody.”

  “How would I know? I’ve never been pregnant.”

  She felt Charles smile against her hair. “Not for lack of trying.”

  “Stop it, Charles. We’re talking about Matt and Karen here, not my insatiable appetite for my husband.”

  “Being that husband, I should mention how grateful I am for such a loving wife.”

  “That’s just it,” Lanni said urgently. “Can you imagine how awful it would be if something ever drove us apart?”

  The smile in her husband’s eyes faded. “I couldn’t bear it, Lanni. Loving you has changed my life for the better. It’s transformed everything. For the first time I have a healthy relationship with my mother. I’ve got you to thank for that. Even the way I feel about my brothers is different because of you.”

  Charles dropped his arms, pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down heavily. “I remember when I learned that Sawyer and Christian had brought women to Hard Luck. I was furious. Then I found out my two brothers expected Abbey and her kids to live in one of those old cabins. I decided to put an immediate end to their idiotic plan.”

  Lanni pulled out a chair for herself and sat opposite him. “Don’t forget the twenty acres.”

  He snickered at that, then shook his head. “I was the one who suggested Abbey leave Hard Luck. When Sawyer heard what I’d done, this look of shock came over him. It was as if I’d stabbed him in the back. Betrayed him. Then he told me something I’ve never forgotten.”

  “What did he say?” Lanni asked when he didn’t continue right away.

  “Sawyer told me I was tempting the fates with my arrogance. He’d never expected to fall in love, and if it happened to him, I was just as vulnerable. Someday I was going to fall in love myself, and he hoped he’d be there to see it, because then and only then would I appreciate what he was feeling.” Charles laughed softly. “Not long after that I met you, and I felt like I’d been smacked upside the head with a two-by-four.”

  “I felt the same way after meeting you,” she said.

  Charles reached for her hand and kissed her fingertips.

  “Remember how Matt tried to bring us back together?” Lanni asked.

  Charles nodded.

  “I can understand now why he did something so uncharacteristic.” She blinked back tears at the memory. “He was hoping to spare us the kind of heartache he was suffering.”

  “And now you want to help him.…”

  “Yes,” Lanni said fervently. “But I’m not sure how, and I’m afraid that anything I say or do might hurt more than it helps.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, sweetheart. Perhaps you should talk it over with another woman, someone you trust and respect.”

  Lanni’s eyes brightened; she leapt out of the chair and dropped a grateful kiss on his lips. “You mean someone like Abbey.”

  Fat raindrops plopped down on the dirt road. Karen studied the pattern they made on the hard ground as she leaned against the porch railing.

  She folded her arms around her waist and gazed up at the dark, angry sky. Matt and the professors weren’t due back until the following day. In her loneliness it felt like an eternity.

  Scott O’Halloran came racing down the road on his bicycle, with Ronny Gold behind him. Their legs pumped the pedals furiously. Eagle Catcher easily kept pace with the two boys, staying closest to Scott’s side.

  Scott saw Karen and slammed on his brakes. “Hi, Mrs. Caldwell!”

  “Hello, Scott.”

  “Do you have a name for your baby yet?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” she told him. “Do you have any suggestions?”

  Scott pinched his lips as he mulled over the question. Then, with a look of excitement, he said, “Scott’s a good name.”

  “So’s Ronny,” the other boy shouted.

  “I’ll keep both of those in mind,” she assured them. “Don’t you think you should get out of the rain?”

  “Nah,” Scott said, answering for them both. “I used to live in Seattle. I’m used to this. Once you’ve lived in the Pacific Northwest, you learn to take rain in your stride.”

  “I’ll remember that,” she said, smiling a little at his grownup manner.

  “Look,” Ronny said, tugging at t
he sleeve of Scott’s jacket. “The girls are right behind us. We gotta split.”

  “’Bye,” Scott said, leaning over the handlebars in an effort to make a fast getaway.

  Chrissie Harris and Susan O’Halloran raced after them. “Hello, Mrs. Caldwell!” Chrissie shouted.

  “Hello, Chrissie. Hello, Susan.”

  Susan gave her a swift wave and paused only briefly, saying, “Scott let Ronny read my diary, and he’s gonna pay.”

  “Do you really think your brother would do something like that?” Karen asked, not quite hiding a smile.

  “I’m sure,” Susan said with righteous indignation.

  “Ronny wrote her a note in the margin of the page. Boys,” Chrissie Harris said with wide-eyed wisdom, “are not to be trusted.” The girls disappeared, chasing after the two boys.

  Now for the first time it came to Karen that Hard Luck would be a good place to raise her child. Although the town was small, the sense of family and community was strong.

  She knew there were occasional problems. Friday nights when Ben served alcohol, some of the local trappers and pipeline workers drifted into town, and now and then a fight broke out. But Mitch was routinely there to take care of things.

  Karen remained on the porch, musing about life in Hard Luck, when Abbey strolled past, carrying an umbrella.

  “Howdy, neighbor,” her friend called.

  When Karen returned her greeting, Sawyer’s wife stopped and studied her carefully. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Fine.” She was, if a little lonely. She missed Matt and wished he was home. Her heart was full of everything she wanted to tell him.

  Abbey moved onto the porch. “Do you have time to sit and chat for a while?”

  “Sure.” Karen was grateful for the company.

  They sat side by side on the steps. “So how’s life treating you these days?” Abbey asked.

  Karen raised her shoulders in a shrug. “I can’t complain.” But she could. In truth, Karen felt wretched, although her condition wasn’t physical. Her malady was one of the heart.

  Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she knew Abbey saw her struggle to keep them at bay. She was thankful that her friend didn’t comment or ply her with questions. Instead, Abbey gave her a moment to compose herself.